Vain: A Stepbrother Romance (3 page)

Chapter 5 The Lesson - Mick

Jamie continues to speak. “I don’t have
a lot of time, so here is how this is going to go down. I have a shirt here for
you with an embedded waterproof microphone. Put the power pack in the pocket of
your shorts—it’s small enough that it won’t be noticed. We are going to take
you home from here, so you can pick up your own car and drive down to the beach.
We don’t want this to be over before it starts by pulling up in a big black
SUV, getting you noticed. Try to blend in. I will handle all of the film
crews—just make sure you keep your face to the pier or the beach. That is where
the two cameras are set up.”

“Sounds good, man.”

The SUV takes me
home. I put on my sunglasses, stick my hair into an old hat, and get into the
first car I ever bought. It’s an old, brown, Datsun two-seater, and it’s a
Junker. But for some reason, I almost like it more than my Porsche. It was the
car I has right before I became famous.

I drive down to the
beach and park my car. Getting out, I notice Samantha. She’s more beautiful
than I remember. I can see her long, dark hair and cerulean blue eyes from all
the way over here. Eagerly, I jump out of the car to greet her.

“Sam, hey there! How
are you?”

Sam looks down at the
sand. “Oh, Mick, I was hoping you weren’t going to come.” Her tone is very
somber.

I laugh. “Well, here
I am. When do I begin my lesson as the greatest surfing instructor in
California?”

Sam’s expression
doesn’t change. “You’re late, and I need your help bringing the extra boards.
My van is just over here.”

She seems a little
colder than I remember, but it’s probably because she’s nervous. Walking to her
van, I realize I am staring. She shoots me a quick glance, but for the most
part, avoids looking at me. As she opens the back doors to the van, she hands
me an old, fat longboard with one skeg. It will be challenging to surf on it,
the way I want to. Board technology has come a long way since this one, but for
me, surfing is surfing. I can ride anything.

Sam grabs one for
herself, closes the doors, and begins to walk past me. Butterflies build in my stomach.

“Hey, why don’t we
get a drink when the lesson is over?” I ask.

Sam stops dead in her
tracks, so quickly in fact that I bump into the back of her. She turns around
slowly.

“Let’s get one thing
straight, here. The only reason you are here is to teach. You made it very
clear last night that’s what you wanted. I am here to teach and to see what
you’ve got to teach, too—nothing more, nothing less. Got it?”

“Well, Sam, that is,
in fact, my condition. If I win, you have to accompany me to a drink.”

The look on her face
is a perplexed one. “That is all you want? A drink?”

“Yep, that’s it.”

          “No tricks?”

         
“No tricks.”

Sam leans in and
takes my hand. “Deal!”

We make our way over to
a group of people. These are our students. They stand in front of us—some old,
some young. I keep some distance from the crowd to avoid being recognized. Sam
begins the class in a tight, clipped tone.

“Hello, class. I’m
Samantha. The not-so-punctual man to my right is Mick. He’ll be assisting me in
teaching you all today. Now, I’ve been surfing since I learned how to walk, and
I can tell you that it’s one of the most freeing, most adrenaline-pumping, most
difficult sports out there.”

Just then, a man from
the group comes up to me to introduce himself. I pull my hat over my eyes in an
attempt to maintain my cover.

“Hey, you look really
familiar. Do I know you?”

         
I cough to clear my throat. “No, I don’t think so. Do you live in the area?”

         
The man raises his eyebrows. “No, I did when I was younger. Where did you
live?”

         
“I lived in and around Bolsa Chica,” I answer quickly.

         
“That must be it. I used to live there, too. My name is Bill.”

I sigh in relief.
“Nice to meet you, Bill.”

Thankfully, Sam
starts speaking again before Bill has time to ask me any more questions.

“Okay beginners,
welcome to a journey of surfing. This is a journey that you will hopefully be on
for your entire life. Now, surfing is not an easy thing to catch onto—not by a
long shot. But that’s what makes the sport so much fun. It takes years to
master. But what I will promise you is that we will have each of you standing
by the end of the day. How long you stand is due both to balance and
perseverance. So, let’s have some fun.”

The group lets out a
collective cheer.

“Let’s start on the
sand, and then make our way out to the water. Put your board face down on the
beach. Mick, you’re late, so you’re going to want to get changed.”

         
“Nah, I’m okay—I’ll just put on this shirt.”

         
Sam narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t you want a wetsuit?”

         
I shrug. “Nah, my blood runs pretty hot, anyways.”

         
I look at Sam, realizing what I just said. I can see she’s thinking about it in
an unintended way. As I take off my shirt, she is staring at my body—I know
that look, and I know part of her wants me. After a few moments, she quickly
starts talking again, trying to divert the attention she had given me.

“So, once Mick is
done with his strip show, we can get started.”

There are a few
chuckles.

“Now… put your board
on the sand in front of you. Good. Now, lay down on it with your hands on the
rails. Nice. There are two ways to get up. One way is to just jump to your
feet. The other, more subtle way, is to take a big step forward and slowly rise
up to your feet. Let’s give those a try.”

I watch as she
demonstrates both actions. My eyes follow her as she walks around to the group.
Sam looks my way expectantly. She waves her hand to say, go help out. I
couldn’t help but become entranced by her. I try to shake the feeling, but it
clings to me like wet sand.

Sam knows I can’t
stop looking at her. On the outside, she appears emotionless, but a part of me
knows her true feelings are beginning to surface.

“Well, Professor
Mick, let’s see what you’ve got.” She motions to me to move closer to the
surfers.

I step forward and continue
the lesson, and I am actually nervous—not for the surfers, but for Sam to see
and hear me. Having her eyes on me makes me anxious.

“Okay, guys, now put
the leash around your back leg like this. We are ready to go. The waves we are
going to ride today are fairly small, so there is no need to worry about them,
but Sam will go over some safety items to be sure you know what to do if you
get in trouble. If you get knocked off your board, the most important thing to
do is not panic. Stay calm and paddle hard to return to the surface. Time to
become surf legends.”

What I said, I meant.
This stunt is going to put me in front of every person in the country. I will
get more attention than any ten of those stupid interviews. I don’t need to
teach now—I need to show my skills. That way, I can impress Sam and surprise
the surfers—becoming a surf god.

I watch Sam run with
the class into the water. God, she is beautiful. As if she could feel my eyes
looking to her, she turns around and smiles. She actually smiled at me. I think
it was by accident. I also think she knew what I was thinking. I run into the
water after her.

As I approach the
water, longboard in hand, I lay the board down and begin to paddle next to her.
I stare into her eyes. If we were anywhere else, I would lean in to kiss her.
But now is not the time.

“So, Sam, how am I
doing? Have I won the bet yet?” I wink at her.

She laughs. “Oh,
we’ll see about that. Your surfing skills are admittedly better than your
teaching.” She playfully splashes water on me as she paddles away.

At this point, part
of me wants to tell her about the stunt. I’m a little concerned about how she
is going to react. That would ruin the whole surprise. I have to just soldier
on.

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see
about that.” I stand up on the board and speak to the class.

“All right, class, I
always say it’s best to watch and learn from the greats. I’m sure Sam wouldn’t
mind if I demonstrated my teaching skills in action.”

Sam’s look of growing
admiration turns to confusion. “Mick, we’re only teaching the surfers how to
stand on the board today, remember?” Her brows are furrowed.
        

I look to her and
wink. I hope more than anything at this point that I can impress her—the stunt
has to happen, regardless. Besides, she’ll receive a lot of business for her
surfing school from my exposure alone.

I couldn’t even look
at her as I continued on the path of my viral video.
Look at me, a big
surfing icon, afraid to look my stepsister in the eye.

She now knows
something is going on. With only the goal of gaining more fame in mind, I
paddle out to the larger sets of waves and wait for my wave to come in. With a
towering wall of water reaching over me, I throw my hat and sunglasses into the
water and catch the next big wave—high-risk, high reward. I surf with reckless
abandon, all the while looking for Sam’s approving face. As I pass the group,
she looks less than happy with me. I don’t know why—this is one of the best
waves I’ve hit in a long time.

Even I can’t believe
it.
I may not be able to teach, but man, I can perform.
But even that
feat wouldn’t be enough to impress Sam. I know that now.

Sam’s jaw sags. I
ride the wave all the way into shore, where the rest of the class meets me with
applause, high-fives, and smiles. Bill, the guy who thought he knew me, now
understands.

“I know who you are
now! You are Mick Anderson, from the Pro Surf League!”

         
The publicity stunt has worked amazingly, but I speak without joy. “Guilty as
charged—that’s me.”

         
I look at Sam’s face as she comes to shore behind the rest of the class. She
looks... sad. The cameras emerge and the fanfare begins, just as I planned. Sam
slowly walks past me, past the excited class, beachgoers, and fans. She doesn’t
care about any of that.

         
For the first time in a long time, fear washes over me. “Sam!
Sam!
Stop!
I want to talk to you.”

          But she’s too far gone.
She walks up the beach with her back against the setting sun with no intention
of turning around. As she fades farther away from the beach, I feel further
away from happiness than ever before. My only chance with Sam has slipped away.

Chapter 6 - San Onofre – Samantha

What an asshole. What an absolute
asshole. How could he waste my time like that, and more than that—how could he
lie? Why does his ego mean more to him than his own sister? I can’t believe I
was considering dating that asshole—for God’s sake, he’s my stepbrother. I
don’t know anything anymore.

         
I begin to angrily pack the gear into the van, still muttering to myself like a
crazy woman.

         
“Sam, please don’t run away. I’m sorry. This did not go as I was hoping it
would.” Mick is approaching me, the last person in the world I want to see.

“Oh. How would you
have liked it to go? Would you have liked it if I admired you? Or bowed down to
you like those lemmings?”

Mick looks at the
ground. “I don’t know, Sam. I just thought it would go better. I guess I really
didn’t think this one out.”

I fold my arms. “No,
you didn’t. You didn’t care about teaching. You didn’t care about anyone but
yourself. You cared about being the celebrity of the hour. Well, you got the
cameras and the money and the fame. You got everything, except for me.”

I am shocked that
those words even came out of my mouth. I never intended to let him know my true
feelings for him, but in my fit of rage, the words fell out. Mick looks stunned
and stammers, as if searching for the right words to say. I hope he doesn’t
realize what I meant.

“Look, Sam, this is
my life. Ya, I am a pro surfer—that’s what I do. I put on a publicity stunt to
gain popularity, yes. That’s a part of my job. But more than anything, I wanted
to impress you. The way I saw you teach out there—it was amazing. I may be a
great surfer, but that’s about all I am. You have a real connection to those
people. You are a great teacher. I lost that bet before it began. You win, Sam.
You win. I will endorse your school.”

A wave of pride
washes over me. Though I wrestle with the thought that Mick could be lying, but
when he spoke, I looked in his eyes—as far as I could tell, he was sincere.
Still, I feel I have to fight off my feelings.
All guys are the same.
I
repeat to myself.

“Mick, you can’t just
solve this with a kind word and an excuse. You fucked up. Your whole life has
been a publicity stunt. You are a child that is starved for attention. You
don’t have to make everything into a PR campaign just to stroke your ego. Don’t
you know there is more to life than that?” I can feel tears starting to well in
my eyes.

“Sam, you…”

I can tell he feels
bad by the expression on his face, but my feelings of guilt are quickly trumped
by my anger. “I need you to leave, Mick. Now!”

I look back at him.
There is such a depth of sadness on his face, it is almost too much for me to
bear. I’m not sure what I feel anymore. This is all so confusing.

Mick steps in close
to me—he is at least a half a head taller than I am. The water from his body
drips onto mine. I refuse to look up. I want to flee, and yet my body won’t let
me leave.
          I feel his breath on me
and see his chest heaving up and down; my breathing becomes heavy. When he is
this close to me, I feel a deep sense of passion and unbridled excitement. Mick
takes me by my arms.

“Listen, Sam. I understand the
complications and baggage that must come from this. I really do. But I can’t
risk another day apart from you. If… if you don’t feel what there is between us
right now, then tell me, and I will leave. I know you feel it though, Sam. You
must.” I look up at his trembling lips.

As I lift my head further, I see Mick’s
face. A water droplet runs down the right side of his cheek and falls onto his
lips. He moves in closer to meet my kiss, and as our lips touch, something
within me shakes as if in warning.
I can’t do this… not with him.
I
break away from the captivating kiss, and Mick steps back in shock.

“Mick, you have to
leave. I can’t do this—not right now. Please,” I whisper the last words, or
they come out in a whisper. A whisper of sadness and regret.

Mick looks at me with
understanding. Part of me feels somewhat gratified.
I wasn’t going to let a
guy come into my life, not like this. Look what happened with John—do you want
that again, Sam?
 As I watch Mick turn and walk away farther in the
distance, I suddenly realize Mick is not John. I don’t think he ever could be.
As the sadness crests overtop of me, I think I may have made the biggest
mistake of my life.

***

         
I fell asleep last night accompanied by terrible feelings of guilt. I deeply
regret the way I treated Mick. It feels like I was just trying to prove a point
now. Truthfully, his stunt would spark enrollment rates in my school, and the
association of his name with my program would bring a lot of notoriety my way.
I understand that Mick helped me, in a way, in spite of his selfish pursuit.

I had many dreams last night, but the
one I remember was all about Mick. In the dream, I met Mick to apologize for my
abrupt reaction, only to have him laugh in my face. When I look behind me, I
realized we were next to the grandstand from the US Open, and everyone was
pointing at me in disgust while laughing away. I awoke in a cold sweat.

These feelings I have
are so complicated. I simply don’t know what to do. There is no question how he
feels about me and no question about how I feel about him, but I am not ready.
Not now.
          Whenever my mind is full
like this, San Onofre is the only medicine I need. San Onofre is where I surf
the long, gentle wave affectionately known as Old Man. Without a second
thought, I place my wetsuit and board in the car, roll down the windows, and
become lost in the song on the radio. I need to clear my mind of everything that
is plaguing me, and if I really care for Mick, maybe all other thoughts will
rush away.

          Images of Mick standing
in front of me invade my thoughts as I drive. His body was godlike. Then I
think of that kiss.
I have never been kissed like that.
In my
distraction, I swerve into the median, but regain control of the car.
I
can’t think about him. No… I can’t think about anything but him.

         
          As I arrive at the gate
for the military base once again, the guard opens up and waves me through.

“Good morning, Samantha. Happy surfing.”

“Thanks.” The guard smiles at me as he
waves me on through, and I watch him watch me in my rear view mirror.

After parking and getting suited up, I
paddle out. As usual I am the only one on the water. I spend time just sitting
peacefully, letting the waves gently rock me. I look to each wave falling upon
the next; as the tide rolls in, sheets of water blanket the sand. My senses
feel very astute right now and my mind clear.
          Watching the waves I
cannot help but think about my life as that ocean, each wave riding against the
current. I look at a massive wave coming in and realize that my life has
arrived at that towering wave. I can either choose to face it, or play it safe
and sit on the shore. It echoes my feelings about Mick.
This wave is a wave
I must take.

Paddling hard, I try
and match the speed of the wave.  It seems I am too late to ride it. 
I am on the cusp of being overtaken by it. Most times I would give up and wait
for the next wave, but this meant something more. I needed to prove to myself I
could get into this wave.  With my shoulders burning from the strain, I
refuse to give up.  Digging in harder, I grit my teeth.  Now at the
right part of the wave I jump to my feet.  The wave is angry and wants to
throw me off in it’s wake.  I will not be bucked off this wave, bending my
knees a little further I hunker in for a hard ride. Then it becomes
magical.  The power of the wave pushes me to shore, giving me enough speed
to really hang it all out there. The ride is magnificent. It was scary at
first, becoming very rewarding. I am glad I took that wave.
          At the end of the ride,
I flop back on the board and decide to paddle back out. Off to my left, I
notice another surfer is floating nearby. I don’t recognize him, and at this
hour, I know everyone who comes out. He is too far away for me to make out any
of his features. I sit contemplating the parallels of that wave to my current
situation as I wait for my next wave.  I pay little attention to the
mysterious surfer, until I realize he is coming to meet me. As his face comes
into view, I realize it is Mick.

“Hi, Sam,” he says
gently.

“Hi, Mick.” I answer.
Unamused.

He looks straight
into my eyes. “I asked around and people told me you surf here. I wanted to
talk to you.” His calming demeanor is unnerving.

“Mick, listen. I
forgive you. I’m okay—we’re okay.” I say half-heartedly. I really just wanted
to continue to surf alone.

“Sam... Thank you.”
Mick smiles. That felt very unsatisfying to me, I wanted him to realize I
didn’t really mean it.

I am not sure why I
couldn’t speak more to him then, but without listening to another word, I pick
up the next wave and ride it to shore. I can’t surf anymore today. Not with him
here. I look back at Mick to see him catching the next wave. He really is an
amazing surfer. As I turn my head around, a sudden spinning feeling hits me,
and I lose footing. I feel my head strike something heavy and dull, and I am
plunged into darkness.